


Two Kinds of Red

by hyakusan



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 19:31:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4275318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyakusan/pseuds/hyakusan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Feitan likes blood, adores it, even. He delights in watching his victims slowly come undone, and the chain user was no exception. Except that, unlike his other victims, the Kurta always walked away alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Kinds of Red

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a friend, I’m sorry if it’s really bad, it’s my first time writing this kind of thing. Kurapika is 19 in this fic (in other words, they are legal). 
> 
> Warning(s): implied chain bondage, light chain play, oral, dfab Kurapika

Feitan likes blood. He likes the crimson colour of the liquid as it flows from an open wound. It intrigues him, excites him, even. The dull, red bloodstains on the clothing of his victims could not compare to the vibrant red of fresh blood, flowing straight from his victims as he sliced them up.

He revels in the helpless expressions painted on their faces as he tortures them. He delights in their agonised screams as they beg for him to stop. Of course, their efforts are futile.

Tonight, however, is a little different.

His latest victim is restrained, chained to the bed, in fact, which is an irony. The chain user, the very person who had been responsible for the deaths of two of their members, and the reason for their leader’s disappearance, was completely chained up and at his mercy. He snickers quietly, pulling down the scarf-like material that would usually cover half of his face, before setting to work, divesting the blonde of their shirt and pants.  

With a deft flick of his wrist, the bandages that bound the Kurta’s chest were sliced open, drawing a noise of protest from the blonde as they attempted to cover themselves, not that they could with their hands bound. A faint blush tints their cheeks, and they shift nervously, obviously uncomfortable with their state of undress.

Feitan leans forward, his grey eyes meeting the other’s brown ones as he kisses them roughly, biting down on their lower lip hard enough to draw blood. He admires the crimson liquid as it drips down their face, before licking it up and pulling away.

He picks up a length of chain, running it over the exposed skin, watching as their body slowly responds to his touch, the cool metal meeting heated skin as he trails it across their chest. Kurapika’s breath hitches and they make a strangled sound that sounds suspiciously like a whimper. The blonde turns away, embarrassed at their reaction, and he repeats the action, watching as the blush on the chain user’s cheeks grew, their breathing becoming ragged as he ditches the chain and toys with their chest instead, licking and biting his way downwards.

Feitan wonders why he is even doing this in the first place. He wonders why the Kurta keeps coming back, and why he lets them leave the room alive. Maybe it was the way the blonde was reduced to a moaning, writhing mess because of him, or the way he could easily trigger their scarlet eyes by just touching them. Either way, it was like a drug, and boy was he hooked.

“A-ah… if you touch me there, I-I’ll…” they gasp as his fingers stroke them through the thin fabric of their briefs, before letting out a soft moan as a knuckle grazes their clit, almost teasingly. The black-haired man takes in their flushed expression, their eyes, now a riveting shade of scarlet, framed by stray strands of blonde hair. It pleases him to know that he did this to them, that only he could make them this aroused.

"W-what are you- ahh!" the blonde cries out, arching their back upwards as he licks and bites, leaving trails of hickeys down their pale thighs. The undergarment is ripped off before they could protest. Kurapika is panting now, as his breath ghosts over their inner thighs. Feitan snickers at the expression on the blonde’s face, a curious mix of arousal and impatience, along with a blush that reaches the tips of their ears.

The Kurta whimpers as he leans closer, their face flushed as he smirks at them, before going in for the kill. A strangled moan escapes them as his mouth moves at an agonizingly slow pace against them. His pale fingers spread them apart as his tongue fucks them senseless.  

For someone so silent, Feitan was surprisingly talented with his tongue, they muse, before that thought is drowned in a pleasure-filled haze as his fingers tighten, bruising their hips as his movements quickened, becoming less controlled as their hips buck upwards to meet him. Moans and whimpers spill out from their lips and they struggle against the chains, wanting, no, _needing_ more contact.

“I-I’m…!” they gasp, and the black-haired man savors the moment they reach their peak, their eyes the colour of fresh blood. He looks up, and is immediately rewarded as the scarlet eyes, fueled by passion and want instead of anger and revenge, stare back at him, looking slightly disoriented as their owner lies panting on the mattress.  

He decides that he wants to see that again, the sinful shade of scarlet, he wants to hear their voice calling out his name, making those exquisite noises as they came. From him. _For_ him.

  
Feitan likes blood. However, he thinks that Kurapika’s scarlet eyes, filled with a myriad of emotions neither of them can decipher, are a thousand times more breathtaking than the crimson fluid.


End file.
